As a plant

Rice
You are a legion of satisfaction
formed to house hunger, you’re white inside out.
You will know 4000 years and even more, so won’t suffer,
if you want to travel somewhere new
it won’t be Antarctica of the cold that is blue.
You will be the companion of the poor
and be thirsty for my tears that will come from the core
If you must wear a color, be green
If you must wear the color brown
be like the ground.
If you must be my child choose the names Issac or Ishmael,
become variety, be fruitful 40,000 times.
You are no folklore, Stanza or poetry,
you are the descendants of Energy
broken down to sun a plate
or moon a stew.
If you want a pilgrimage, then be Jollof or Fried.
I will see to it that your fish is not over-fried.

Ruddapoet